


Bouncing Check And Cash Dreams

by letmetellyousomething



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 1920s, 1930s, American History, Historical Inaccuracy, Humanstuck, M/M, Not Beta Read, Racism, Slang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyousomething/pseuds/letmetellyousomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the times were better, you could have had two kids with Aimee McIdo, a green patch with runner beans, pak choi, tobacco and some flowers... The more desperate you get, the more conventional and impersonal your day dreams are- your own seem pretentious now. </p><p>Sollux is a hobo drifting by. Tavros quit his work at a farm to take a chance in the city.<br/>They meet on the train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bouncing Check And Cash Dreams

You abruptly realize you might be sitting in the wrong train.  
You thought you were so clever. You made a  plan with all the information you were given- time tables, sheepish questions to follow hobos and bindle punks when the next wares train will stop here- but by now you should have arrived, you feel sick and you're most certainly lost.  
You can't tell the time without a watch and even with one it would be too dark to see. You assume it's night outside.  
  
You stand up from your crouching position between three containers and stretch awkwardly. Your whole body hurts, but you feel yourself over to where you expect the sliding gate.

You take in the sharp air that seeps through the slit of the gate.  
  
If it had worked out like they had promised, you would be married to Aimee McIdo by now. Work hard, make something out yourself and you'll be able to support yourself and your family, that's the idea. And you were always stuck on her, so you could have been reasonably happy.  
You know she would have eloped with you if her parents hadn't agreed; she probably would have asked you in the first place.  
You told yourself you were being selfless when you left.

You like to entertain this sweet regret: you imagine that you would have had two baby kids together and a green patch where you could grow runner beans, pak choi, tobacco and some flowers.  
Your dreams tend to involve many filling meals. Your hunger is so single-minded at times that you don't feel like yourself anymore.  
  
It's not that you care much about flowers and gardening either, but the more desperate you get, the more conventional and impersonal your day dreams get- your own seem pretentious.  
  
You're on your way up north- away from the Bible belt- they say they're more liberal there, but you want to get to the country side if you can. So far you scraped along with odd jobs which barely held you afloat. Food prices in the cities are higher than where they get produced, right? Then again who'll even take a lanky bony fella like you for hard physical work?  
You don't know, you just don't. This is all guess work, you can't ask anybody to give you a reasonable, stern talk. What would you give for somebody to break you down with all the best intentions- Aimee, KK, anybody. You lost your support system when you thought it would break under your dead weight. You ran off, to say it more clearly. You wanted to get lost when you took a drift.  
  
You have fallen asleep leaning on the gate, tired from the crouching. Which is about the most idiotic thing you could do. You wake up with a start. Is somebody here, are they going to find you? Then you notice two things: that the train stopped moving and that something is jolting the gate. You fall back and scramble for cover. You don't know what they'll do to you when they nail you.  
Then your brain starts to work and tells you that nobody official would need to jolt at the gate to get in.  
So you wait.  
There's a pause, then the jouncing gets more desperate. You can picture it: somebody outside tries to get in in time before the train sets off- wait, you've got to get off the train! FUCK. You run for your bindle and, taking a heart, push at a part of the gate to unhinge the lock a little.  
  
The number outside notices your efforts and helps you. With a creak you can slide the door open together and- it's dark outside, no sight of a train station. You look into the flabbergasted face of your newly acquired colleague.  
Then the hombre makes a decision and throws his backpack inside, giving you a smile as far as you can see.  
"Where is this?" you ask.  
"Uh, well, I don't know if the name of the city would really, tell you anything?"  
  
You look outside into the blueish tinted darkness. There are grassy slopes on either side. It doesn't seem inviting, but you would prefer not to stay with this guy, even if he seems harmless.  
From what you can see in the dark he's tall, but he talks carefully.

...Then again if he tries to get away from here, you decide it can't offer you much either.  
  
He climbs in and even figures out how to hinge the gate back in place.  
  
"Wow, it's dark in here. Do you, have a light?"  
"No, and it would be really fucking stupid to make a fire in here."  
He just says oh and falls silent. You decide to get back to your corner.  
  
"New Gloster. That uh, was the name of the city, if you're still wondering. It's not a big place," he tells you.  
"But I guess they have to, uh, stop here to get another engineer?"  
  
You don't know what to answer. After a few minutes he asks where you are.  
You just tell him to close his head and to hide if he doesn't want to be spotted. God, how much of a chump is the guy?  
  
"But I wouldn't hide between the containers, that is, if I was you, which I am not, but I know that the containers can squash people, if you're not careful," he says, uncomfortable with the silence.

"I loaded containers like these, several times and if the trains stops, harshly, they can slide."

Oh. You scramble out, swearing.

After another pause you thank him.  
  
You stay silent during most of the rest of the night, but exchange some sentences about where you're from.  
The silence is somewhat amicable now.  
  
You can sleep better leaning against the walls of the train. Somehow you feel less afraid about being found when you're not alone.  
  
When the sun comes out it gets light enough to see and you can give your fellow traveler a better up-and-down.

  
He's fit, hitting on all eight, even though the economy couldn't have put much on his plate to feed those muscles.

Yes, he's handsome as well. Yes, thank you stupid sodomitical urges for noticing that.

He could do well if it weren't for these shitty times. You feel a weird sorrow.  
  
When it's noon and the hunger gets unbearable you unwrap some food to chew, and he takes it as a prompt to get his rations out as well.  
For a moment you look at each other's meals. Sheesh, that's a lot of almost raw vegetables.  
  
"D'you want to share?"

  
"If you're dying for some lackluster jerkies and dry biscuits?"

"I've had corn all week, some variation would probably, be a good thing."

So you share. Your mood improves greatly afterwards. Embarrassingly it really all comes down to food.  
  
"My name's Soo Lee Captor," you say after a while. Some people were allowed to call you Sol back in the life before you ran.

"And I am, Tav Ross. Everyone calls me, by my whole name though. That's a pretty unusual name you have there, isn't it?" he asks carefully.

"What, Soo Lee?"

"No, I actually meant, Lee-Captor."

You snort. But now that you think about it, maybe Lee really is your surname? Captor's the name they gave your father's grand parents when they arrived in America. Everyone afterwards was called some variation of Lee.

The thought gives you a weird push and you sit up straight.  
  
You tell him about your plan to get to the country side after some hesitation. Now he hesitates himself and tells you about his plan to get to the city, because he heard that is where you can make money.  
He's too polite to tell you, but he obviously doesn't think you would be hired on a farm.  
  
"Land owners can treat you, really badly though. I worked at a farm for some time, but uh, the lady of the house... didn't like me. And there were problems, but I guess I could have stayed?"

The way he puts it makes it sound more like she liked him too much.  
  
"Do you think that's stupid?"

You know that others probably would have told him he should have sucked it up under these circumstances, but at least he ran away for his dignity's sake, you think bitterly.  
  
"No. Sometimes you have to remember your spine and make run for it. Can't let them have everything," you say more vehemently than you meant to.

He looks at you with a weird mixture of relief and hope. Now you two really get into sharing your beef about your respective situation- how difficult it is to find work when you show your face, or just a cheap dive.

Usually you pretend you don't notice the differences in treatment because the stupidity annoys you. You two speculate where you can still find a place and after a while you notice that you think of plans that include both of you. Together.  
  
"Well, you know, it's like this everywhere for us. Last hired, first fired," Tav Ross concludes.  
  
You look at your knees. You heard that Mexican-Americans get taken away to who knows where, so others (speak, whiteys) could get their jobs.

Even "slitted eyes" like you have it better at the moment.

"Maybe," Tav starts. "You have to open your own business? Something where, you're the big cheese, who hires you and others who are good people, maybe."  
  
You laugh. You don't want to mock him, but it's just so weird that he gets ideas like that.

Now he's almost pouting and you have to laugh again, which is something you're not used to anymore. It's raspy and starts to hurt.

  
"Sorry, but the heck... what is your business plan? In these times? Which dingles do you want to suck to get dough to start a business?" He winces. Fortunately he's good humored enough that he didn't let himself get offended over that. You have gotten into trouble for less at times.  
  
"Ugh, no, but I think if it's more than one, person who saves up money, it's possible. With somebody's who is, well, clever and savvy and can do the booking."  


Now he's looking at you with a way too intense, hopeful expression.

"I thought about, a food cart maybe, because people always eat, right?" he says more eagerly now, because he apparently saw something in your face.

Does he really wants to start a food stall with you? You start to clean your glasses to win time, but you already feel yourself being swayed over. Something about his optimism is contagious. Maybe you can add pak choi to whatever he's cooking up.

  
"What kind of food do you have in mind? You know, people are picky with their food if they're going out at all," you finally say.

Tav Ross' face lights up even more.

The rest of the journey you discuss suitable Mexican recipes.

  
  
It's ridiculous, but when you finally arrive at a city- one you never would have had in mind when you climbed into this train at first- the first thing you two do is to throw your money together to buy what you can get for your first "taco". You squat openly at the corner of a street when Tav Ross prepares it.

The buildings in this city stack even higher than back home and he's way too close, or not close enough, depending on how much of this fast growing crush you allow yourself to feel.  
He's almost meeting your head with his forehead when you finally take a big bite, so eager is he for your reaction.

It tastes great, you assure him, even though that's partly due to you starving. When you lick off the dripping sauce from your fingers afterwards, you notice how Tav's eyes fixate on your kisser. He grins flustered and looks away when you raise your eyebrows.  
  
"Cash or check?" you can't help but ask, which makes him turn around again. You swallow heavily. Did you just ask him if he will kiss you now or later?

There you go, Soo Lee Captor, ruining it for both of you. This is the last thing Tav needs after some farmer's daughter has been making improper mooneyes at him! If you're lucky he didn't understand your slang as honest catholic country man.

  
You stand up and rub your neck. He rises with you, towering over you. Sheesh, has the guy always been that physically intimidating?  
  
And based on the bewildered way he's peering down at you now, he got exactly what you asked him.  
  
"Uh, I suppose check, if we have the same idea here, for later. Which I hope we do, because the other idea might be, disappointing," he finally stutters sheepishly.

"By which, uhh, we definitely don't mean money, for the taco or in general, yes? "

"Ehehe, definitely not, pal."

The uncertain moment passes. You two get going.

  
He will cash in those kisses later with you, even though you're rooming with ten other guys.  
  
For now, you're okay. It seems the economy is looking up as well.

  
 And if you don't pull off an American dream with this taco business, maybe you can still manage your own dream with Tav.


End file.
